One Brown Mouse
by FlamingDranzer
Summary: The morning was no different than any other until he stepped into the daylight and found a gem of joy.


Warnings: None

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters, but the plot is mine.

Author's Note: This actually did happen to me a few days ago. Whether or not Demyx is living in a house or in Castle Oblivion is up to your imagination, as I tried to choose a wording which would allow the readers to imagine the rest. Finding a mouse first thing in the morning, nonetheless a live one, is really odd. Even though it was really cute.

One Brown Mouse

The high-pitched beeping of the alarm clock echoed around the tiny room. The sky outside was still dark, although not as dark as it had been at midnight. The sun, who had yet to make an appearance, was slowly arising far away, illuminating the darkened world. It was also oddly quiet. No birds sang, nor did crickets chirp. But have they ever done so on the morning of April 1st, commonly known around the United States as April Fool's?

Irritated, a hand lazily rose and fell again, hitting a button of the darned alarm clock. The annoying beeping suddenly stopped. The person which the hand belonged to tiredly opened his green eyes and glanced at the clock. It was only five in the morning. Granted, most people would still be asleep, but for someone with an important mission which must begin early in the morning, sleeping longer would be an excuse for laziness.

"Morning already?" the teenager asked to himself quietly, rubbing his eyes with his hands. His hair, a mix between brown and blond, was limp, falling to his shoulders. At that moment, it was not the famous hybrid of a mohawk and a mullet that people have obsessed over for years.

Tired and sore, the teenager slowly set his numb feet on the floor, surprised to find the carpet somewhat warm compared to the air around him. The wonders of the world would never cease to amaze him. He found himself glad that the flooring was not made of wood. Instead of rolling out of bed, something very probable considering his sleepy state, he managed to push himself off the bed with his hands, and unsurprisingly, was soon standing.

He found himself shivering as the frigid air caressed the parts of his body not covered by clothing. His sweatpants and t-shirt protected his legs and body respectively, but did nothing for his poor toes and exposed arms. Eager for the warmth his body strived for, he hurriedly shrugged off his clothes and put on his familiar outfit.

Once again, he was clad in black, as anything else other than the usual would be seen as odd by his peers. Black socks now covered his toes and feet, black pants fought against the cold desperately trying to assault his legs, a long sleeved coat and gloves were a barrier against the frigid air. With the annoying task of getting dressed out of the way, he exited his room and walked towards the nearest bathroom, trying to appear happy.

He found himself arriving at the bathroom rather quickly, as sleep sometimes makes us lose track of time. His fingers reached out and flicked the light switch upward, quickly illuminating the small room in bright white light. For a minute, he threw his right arm over his eyes, as the suddenness of the light allowed his pupils no time to adjust. Within a minute, he had the door shut and his sacred hair gel on the counter.

He took off his gloves for a moment to get his hands covered in the sticky gel that, when used properly, could take his messy bedhead hair and sculpt it into his famous hybrid of a mohawk and mullet. As much as he disliked the aftereffects the substance left on his hands, he would not go out without his hair at its best. No, going out with anything but his famous hair would upset his fangirls.

Unsurprisingly, he had gotten so skilled with the task of applying hair gel that it took just under five minutes to make his hair as perfect as humanly possible. He turned the knobs on the sink, one for hot and the other for cold, waiting for the water to reach a comfortable temperature. It soon reached the warmth that he had desired, and quickly and efficiently, he applied soap to his sticky hands and proceeded to wash them under the stream of water.

Turning off the hot water, causing the temperature of the stream to rapidly plummet, he reached with one hand to his toothbrush and his other to his toothpaste. He flicked the lid open with his thumb as his other hand held the toothbrush under the frigid water. It was only a few minutes until his teeth were brushed and as bright as the lights had been when they were first switched on.

His morning routine finally completed, he headed to the entrance of the building. There, he found his boots, along with those belonging to his other friends. He sat on the floor like a child and rolled up his pant legs, carefully tying the laces of his boots after putting them on, striving to get them as comfortable as possible, what with the long day ahead of him.

That done, he looked behind him for a second, as if wondering if he had forgotten something. His worries subsided, and almost cheerfully, he exited the building and entered the warmth of the rising sun.

It was now chilly, thanks to the warmth granted to Earth by the heavenly star known as the sun of the galaxy. No longer was the sky nearly as dark as a crow's feathers. It had lightened, and in the east resided a pale blue which could hardly be called blue at all. There were no clouds in sight to fend off the sun's warmth. Even the birds had begun to sing again.

Heading into the world, Demyx cheerfully walked, humming a song to himself as he continued on his merry way. The notes were seemingly random, having been decided upon a whim, and they were so quiet that hardly even a mouse would have to strain to hear them. While all this occurred, the gravel on the ground had not moved.

That is, until the moment where Demyx's right foot collided with it only centimeters away from an out-of-place brown stone. Or, so he thought it was a stone. But could stones really move? He wondered this question to himself as the stone arose and scurried away.

Curiously, without a word, Demyx followed the retreating stone, only to find out that it wasn't a stone, but a mouse that was moving. The sunlight glistened off of its light brown fur, which gave way to white halfway down its body. It was an equal balance of the two colors, each one taking up half of the mouse's soft, silky fur.

Its pink little toes grasped frantically at the ground, in an effort not to be caught by this strange predator that stood on two legs. Its tail, just as pink, followed the small body as it fled. Demyx, still curious, followed the mouse a few steps further. And then, all of a sudden, he stopped. He watched the mouse scurry into a tunnel only a foot away from where he stood.

He said nothing; he just smiled softly and enjoyed the warmth of the sunlight, all the while keeping an observant gaze focused upon the tunnel.


End file.
